


Opacare et Matutinus

by Stargirl4Ever



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Criminal Profiling, Emotional Manipulation, Empathy Disorders, F/M, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Some of the food is people, Strange Matchmaking, sexy stuff if you know what I mean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stargirl4Ever/pseuds/Stargirl4Ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The final step for you to join the FBI criminal profiling team is to get a psychological evaluation, and when Doctor Hannibal Lecter hears of your ability to assume other people's points of view, he is reminded of another haunted, emotionally unstable patient of his. Hannibal simply must have you two connect, and he's more than convinced that your own instability will have adverse affects on your job, though he needn't tell anybody of that...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A super, duper, not-creepy, romantic Will Graham/Reader and Hannibal/Reader story! I know I've got other stories to complete, but I've had this one lying about for a few years now.

_This is it. You are here. It is now._

You said your mantra in your head, sighing a bit as you glanced around the elegant, yet minimalistic waiting room. It was impeccably clean, but as one would have cleaned their home, and to your satisfaction. Nothing like the overcrowded, highly-disinfected, MRSA breeding-ground of the doctor’s offices you were used to. Even the office location, 687 Bayshore Ave. — Ste. 200 MD. 21161 was situated in a high-end area in Baltimore.

The decor in the room reflected somebody with a flawless vision of style. Despite the beauty of the room, you were a bit impatient. This appointment though, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. It surely wouldn’t be some cliche turning point in your life, like meeting with shrinks in the movies.

You were to start working with the local police and FBI in solving crimes and profiling criminals next week. Your personal physician told you it would be a good idea to regularly check in with a psychiatrist to make sure that you would be okay with your new job, knowing how big of an emotional impact it could cause on a person. Not to mention that it was kind of required by the FBI to do a psych evaluation, so why not kill two birds with one stone?

You asked the physician for recommendations, and she referred you to a man called Dr. Hannibal Lecter. You didn’t know much about him, besides what it said on his website and what you had picked up from him when you had booked an appointment via mail correspondence. His responses to you had been quite formal, and you wondered what he would be like in person.

Even his stationary was really formal, the header of his personalized papers reading:

**_DR H. Lecter_**

_DOCTOR OF PSYCHIATRIC MEDICINE_

_Ph.D_

He was the man you might open up to. There had to be a degree of _likableness_ to him in order for that to happen. Also, some elements of _empathy_ in him, considering your certain aptitude towards the ability to understand and share the feelings of others...

The door in front of you opened, snapping your attention to a tall man with very sharp facial features. Despite his height, he was not lanky, and his unusual features and lack of immediate readability on your part certainly was a bit disconcerting. You adjusted the plastic frames of your glasses.

“Please come in, Miss (surname). I apologise for the wait. I felt that in order for us to reach the fullest potential of our session together, I had to tame the chaos that was known as the files on my desk.” He said, a charming, but somewhat forced smile flashing across his face. His voice with heavy with an accent you couldn’t place in the slightest.

You smiled back, shaking his hand and greeting him, allowing only a glance to his eyes. The thought of sharing your mind with this man suddenly made you feel edgy to some extent. You entered the office, and Dr. Lecter shut the door behind him with a _click_.

Though it wasn’t surprising, the room was just as wonderfully decorated as the one you had just left. There was a loft with book shelves high above, accessible with a ladder, and there were many interesting things that drew your attention right away, including a piano-forte. It was habit to try and take in all the details, being the observer that you often were.

Despite that, you failed to notice Dr. Lecter surreptitiously smell your hair and close his eyes in brief ecstasy as you moved past him.

He showed you to a black leather chair, and you seated yourself as he took his place in a matching one at a comfortable distance across from you. He was silence for a few moments, watching you keenly.

You hadn’t made proper eye contact yet, fearing what look he would have in his eyes for you. Feeling a bit awkward, you looked once more around the room with renewed curiosity.

“Do you possess an interest in aesthetic design?” He said, your focus shifting to him. His tone was conversational and relaxed, despite his large words.

“Yes, I suppose. I do appreciate the arts.” You said. Though your answer was sincere, you felt the inexplicable need to speak formally with Dr. Lecter.

“What forms of art do you appreciate?” He said slowly, articulately, especially for someone with a foreign accent.

“Painting, drawing. Music... lot of music. I appreciate literature and performances. Oh, and culinary arts.” You said, finding a place in your mind to tell yourself to relax. Psychiatrists can read these sorts of things in your behaviour, right?

Dr. Lecter looked amused, as though he was finding something secretly humourous. “I personally enjoy of all of those myself in my own time.” He leaning back in his chair and crossed his legs. “My main focus, however, is that I am a connoisseur of culinary artistry.”

“You don’t meet many who consider themselves trained in the art of food.” You said, with some apprehension. You once again wondered if he was using any psychological tricks to see what was really going on in your head.

Dr. Lecter smiled again, but it seemed more genuine than before. A strange thought entered your mind, prompting you to evaluate whether this man was attractive or not. Something about him, some je ne sais quoi... You brushed the thoughts aside for the time being.

He changed the subject after a moment of comfortable silence (and you stealthily looking over his body). “Your physician informed me of why she felt it necessary for me to meet with you. I have sessions with other clients associated with the FBI as well, and I will submit a psychological evaluation to your superiors as soon as I can.”

You nodded and thanked him, hesitating before speaking again, fiddling with your glasses. “It’s also maybe because of stress, I suppose. I hope to learn how to relieve some of it.”

 _Trust me doctor, that’s just the tip of the iceberg_... You said in your head.

“I am glad you have some goals for these sessions. There are many ways to alleviate stress and anxiety, but medication will be our last resort.” He said. You nodded, glad that he didn’t prescribe any meds right away. He continued. “If you don’t mind, I would like to ask you a few questions about yourself, in order to get to know you better. I often prefer to do this during the first sessions.”

“Sure.” You looked at your hands neatly clasped in your lap, and then around the room once again. He asked you a question that you were a bit unprepared for.

“Do you tend to shift your focus and get easily distracted? I have observed you have some difficulty minding one subject or object for certain periods of time.” He shifted himself once again, leaning forward and sitting on the edge of his chair, knees apart. He hoped it would capture your attention, and that your focus would land on him and his questions. He now knew that you were unorthodox, and his methods were going to be unorthodox as they were with a few of his other patients...

The famous ADHD question. You waited a moment before answering, your tongue darting out to lick your dry lips. “Yes. It made class lectures somewhat difficult to follow.” You were looking out the window, and you realized that it would only further his diagnosis. Though your eyes would wander, you knew your mind could pay attention to things that were important.

“Miss (surname), look at me please.” He said calmly. There was a hint to his voice that was odd. You moved your gaze to his face, and then to his soft brown eyes. He silently held you captive.

You felt some anxiety creep into your mind, it’s seemingly gentle tendrils holding you in place, just as Dr. Lecter’s eyes were. You had never seen the look in his eyes on someone else before, the expression foreign and unreadable. You had no idea what it was.

Doing your best to remain calm, you asked him a question. “Dr. Lecter, where are you from?” Your voice was slow, and he could hear the strained edge to it. This was quite possibly one of the most unusual situations you had ever found yourself in.

“I come from Lithuania, though I have lived in many places.” He waited some time before deciding to help you calm down, enjoying the current expression on your face. He would proceed to help you calm down, a tactic to help you gain trust in him. It was the whole reason he had forced you to take his gaze in the first place.

“Take a deep breath, please. Close your eyes.” He commanded softly. You complied, shutting your eyes lightly. You heard him write something down in the leather notebook that had been on the glass table next to the chair.

“When was the last time you slept, and for how long did you sleep?” He asked. You thought for a moment before answering.

“Um, it was last night of yesterday, and I slept for maybe five hours.” You phrased with some effort. Again, you heard Dr. Lecter scribble something on the pages.

“Is it due to insomnia, or unusual scheduling?” You told him the latter and he nodded before continuing. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Yesterday.” You said. He nodded again, telling you that he was going to ask some more questions about your life.

“Do you happen to be in a relationship of any sort?” He asked. Nope. You answered him. This was succeeded more questions about your life.

When he asked you about how you felt in relation to the feelings of others, you felt that he knew exactly what was special about you and that area of your life. The fact that you could feel what other people were feeling, or think what other people were thinking. You could efficiently put yourself into other people’s places perfectly. Empathy, it was called.

Hannibal took a sharp, but quiet intake of breath when you spoke of you being a pure empath. He tilted his head slightly, his expression changing once again. He supposed that one would liken his expression akin to that of a person who has fallen in love, but he knew that it was far much more complex than that.

Hannibal was acutely self-aware, and he knew that his fascination with you would grow to be an obsession, as his interests sometimes evolved into. His mind traveled to another patient of his, before he urged you to continue explaining.

“I... I understand everything... Just about everything, at least. I can see the reason for every action. I can predict behavior... and motivation for anybody. I can assume other’s points of views.” You said. This was the first time you were opening up about it. You always figured that it was something everybody did, but then you learned that you were all alone.

“I understand. It is quite an extraordinary gift, something I do not find in people often. It is traits like these that truly sets a woman apart from the rest of the world. Are you assuming my point of view right now?” He asked, hoping his sublime interest in you was well hidden behind his usual façade.

You looked at him before nodding your head slowly. “Just the psychiatrist side of you.” Other than that, he was seemingly empty, wearing a mask. A person suit. It unnerved you to a great extent.

“Almost coincidently, I do have one other patient who is very much like you. He is a part of the FBI criminal profiling team, the one that you are to be joining.” Hannibal smiled, thinking of the man.

Will Graham was intriguing, his empathy making him incredibly perfect to study, and now he had another lovely specimen, another one who was very pleasant to be in the company of. His mind opened to the endless possibilities of the two meeting, and how he would play a part in it. Hannibal always took pleasure in knowing that he was in control. He had expected this meeting to be of little interest to him, but things had taken a much different turn.

“You can talk about him?” You asked without thinking it through “Excuse me, I hope that didn’t sound rude...” You apologized, feeling again the need to be courteous around the man. Weren’t there patient confidentiality laws, or something? Surely legal issues?

“It wasn’t rude at all.” He said with a slightly wry smile. “Will Graham, the patient like you, has given me permission to talk about him with other people should the need arise.” He lied smoothly.

You still couldn’t quite get used to his languid and controlled voice and accent. It was quite distracting, to your sudden realization. The name ‘Will Graham’ sounded very familiar, but it didn’t immediately come to mind where you had heard it before.

“Besides using my professional judgement to decide what is best for my clients, Will is a personal friend of mine as well.” Dr. Lecter continued, defending his decision to speak to you about Mr. Graham.

You didn’t know much about psychiatric practice, but you still weren’t convinced about the patient confidentiality with this Will Graham. You didn’t venture to further it though.

“Well, it appears that the time allotted for our session has come to an end.” He said after checking his watch. “I’d like to add though, that perhaps it would be beneficial for you to know Mr. Graham before heading to the workplace with him. Connecting on a certain level him would be rewarding for him as well.”

Hannibal wondered how you would both react to each other, how two people who feel the emotions of the other would connect. William fascinated Hannibal to no end, and you now did as well. Besides, if Will meets you in a place that isn’t work related, he would be more likely to involve you in his personal life.

“Friend Will is actually on his way here at the moment, his appointment is scheduled directly after yours. If you wish, you could stay for a small while longer in order to meet him. I highly suggest you do.”

    You smiled and nodded, though you were feeling pretty tired. You couldn’t just dismiss Dr. Lecter’s advice, and you had felt like the only person in the world with your abilities. Now, perhaps you were no longer alone.

* * *

 Dr. Lecter ushered you out with gentle dominance, instructing you to wait where you had previously been. You sat down tentatively, holding your hands gingerly in your lap.

“Please excuse me for a few moments.” Dr. Lecter said with a smile before re-entering his study to get his files in order once again. Not more than a few minutes later, a man entered the building. You studied him before he noticed you.

He looked disheveled and scruffy, having curly, dark, and tousled hair. He had stubble and was wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, and an open coat. Around his neck was a scarf. He was by all traditional means, very handsome. Almost the exact opposite of the the professorial, exotic appearance of Dr. Lecter.

You watched the man’s movements, and your mind was brought to images of a lack of sleep, pain meds, and the haunting, still nothingness of fading into oblivion. You sucked in a ragged breath, bringing his attention to you. This man’s movements said much of his story...

He looked momentarily surprised, and you inadvertently caught the gaze of his blue eyes through the lenses of his glasses, similar to the ones you wore. The accidental eye contact caused you both to looked abruptly away. You could already tell that he was a lot like you, awkward, bespectacled, and empathetic? He had that lost look that you often had.

Eyes spoke a thousand words... His did... And you knew he had read yours as he would one of the books in his collection...

Doing his best to avoid your eyes once again, he cleared his throat and spoke in a soft, but tight voice. He was clearly not expecting to see someone else here.

“I hope I’m not intruding on anything. I wasn’t aware that he’d have someone else here. I’m pretty sure that I was scheduled for right now.” He looked at his watch, not actually interpreting its numbers and hands.

Before you could say anything, Dr. Lecter opened the door. Had he been listening or watching?

“Will,” Hannibal said, stepping out the door. “Your timing was indeed correct.”

Will looked at Hannibal, clearly waiting for an explanation.

* * *

Will Graham was sitting in the chair he usually sat in, and Hannibal was at his desk, writing something in his notebook. Hannibal had only introduced you to Will, not offering much explanation. It was most awkward, but you knew that Dr. Lecter had his own sense of the way things should go, and despite the current silence, you knew that he was in control of the situation and your interactions.

Will looked over to you sitting comfortably cross-legged on the dark grey chaise by the windows, reminded of the mannerisms of a child. Your slightly unkempt look, glasses, and weary expression reminded him of himself. If his intuition was correct, you were a kindred spirit in more ways than he could imagine.

Will had the sort of thoughts that left a feeling of constriction in his throat on a regular basis, but looking at your face was a reminder that there were people like him in the world, and it wasn’t a bad sort of feeling.

He wanted so very much to interact with you without the hawk-like observation from his friend Hannibal. He suddenly got the urge to invite you to his farmhouse, show you his family of dogs, keep you safe, bring home fish to cook for you... But he had only just met you minutes ago. Talk about moving too fast...

The stillness wasn’t as suffocating as you thought it would be, but you decided to break it anyways. Hannibal’s pencil stopped moving.

“ _Mr. Graham_... you were a professor at the FBI Academy.” You said, recalling where you had heard Will Graham’s name before Hannibal had mentioned it to you in regards to the profiling team. “I didn’t have any of your classes, but I know people who did.” Not to mention the fact that you were going to be working with him in a week or so.

Will nodded. The FBI academy, your name, and other factors suddenly clued in where Will had heard of you. All the pieces fell into place.

“And you’re (name).” He said with sudden realization. “You’re going to work with me next week. I’d kind of forgotten about that.” He looked a bit embarrassed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it now, strangely finding himself worried for your well-being. He didn’t know how much you had already seen of this world, but he thought of your rather innocent demeanor looking at defiled corpses on a regular basis, “interpreting the evidence” as he did.

The thought of you imagining yourself committing a murder flashed through his mind, making him shudder internally.

Hannibal spoke, confirming Will’s fears. “Miss (surname) sees through the eyes of others as you do, Will. Her gift is amazingly similar to yours, and Jack Crawford has chosen her to work with you because of this.” Jack Crawford thought that someone who could help Will on only a level that they could both understand would improve the team’s efficiency by great means. He also thought Will could use a friend, female company to be exact.    

Okay, so Dr. Lecter knows Mr. Crawford? You and Jack had spoken to each other on numerous occasions, and you could even consider him a friend. The theme from “It’s a Small World” played through your mind, and the room suddenly felt like it was closing in on you.

“(Name), I often work with the criminal profiling team as well.” Dr. Lecter clarified.

You smiled briefly as a courtesy, and let out a deep breath. “I apologize, but you’ll have to excuse me. I’ve got to... I’m...” You tried to find a polite way out. “Dr. Lecter, Mr. Graham...”

Dr. Lecter cut in, saving you from furthering your stressedness. “It is okay if you go. I understand that it is a lot of information to receive during one session. I have scheduled you for the same time next week.” He said, smiling.

You thanked Dr. Lecter, and gave a small wave to Will Graham before leaving. Will just watched you curiously, a plan forming in his head.

Seconds after you had left, Will looked to Hannibal with an almost identical expression as yours. He stood up, and said goodbye to Hannibal before exiting in a similar manner as you had. He wanted to catch up to you outside.

Hannibal opened his notebook once again to put the finishing details on the sketch he had been working on during the hour or so knowing you. It was a perfect image of your face with your eyes serenely closed, and he was quite satisfied with how it turned out. The sketch would find a home in the drawer in his bed table, along with a similar sketch of Will.

Later, on an official form, he completed the necessary sections that deemed you mentally fit to undertake the job as a criminal profiler and investigator, a mistake that had been made with Will Graham not too long ago.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the shortness, but I like this chapter and the way it turned out. Hope you enjoy!

_This is it. You are here. It is now._

_This is it. You are here. It is now._

_This is it. You are here. It is now._

You repeated this to yourself once again, leaning against the side of Dr. Lecter’s office building. You were regaining composure, wondering exactly what had happened to you back there. You knew you were sometimes a distracted sort of person, but the likes of which had happened in Dr. Lecter’s office had never happened before.

 _Holy shit_ , did Dr. Lecter have an effect on you! And it wasn’t a very nice effect either, it was however an interesting feeling knowing that someone was in complete control of what you felt, that he could control what he projected and what you read from him.

Will Graham on the other hand, felt like the eye in the center of a storm when you looked at him.

That was mostly okay.

“(Name).” You heard someone say softly. You jumped up, knowing it was Will. You sighed audibly, relaxing a bit when Will leaned on the wall next to you.

“Mr. Graham.” You greeted him.

It was quiet for a few moments, but Will was the kind of person you didn’t have to constantly speak verbally with to have a conversation, especially not with you.

“Just ‘Will’ is fine.” He said, starting walking down the sidewalk, it clearly being a silent invitation for you to follow. You went with him without much hesitation.

“He sure is... something I’ve never encountered before.” You said with a bitter laugh, referring to Dr. Lecter.

“He’s probably watching us right now.” Will said wistfully, a small, bleak smile appearing on his face. You resisted the urge to look up at the window to see if Will was being literal. You laughed a bit, but not too much.

“I’ve also got this feeling that Dr. Lecter is playing some sort of weird match-making game with us.” You said with another small laugh, not sure if the conversation was coquettish or not. It could very well be.

“If he is, he’s doing a good job at it.” Will said, a bit breathlessly with. He looked at your scuffed sneakers, wondering if he’d crossed the line. There was no doubt, however, that there was a clear attraction between the two of you.

He thought you were attractive, among other things.

With his suddenly direct suggestion, you knew that your opinion of Will was set, and that you liked him and generally enjoyed his company. With your _gift_ , it meant that you could quickly form opinions about a person by being around them. You didn’t know how much you could open up to him though, and the circumstances of your meeting were certainly odd...

“I don’t want to meet you at his office again.” Will said, looking up at the sky. You knew he wasn’t telling you off, or referring to work. Will just wanted to see you on his own accord. He was the kind of man that liked to leave work out of his home, and he needed to establish something with you outside of work and without the astute observation of Hannibal.

To anybody else, his words would have sounded like they were clearly telling you to back off, but you knew better, and saw the intentions behind his words. He was basically asking you on a date the next time he’d see you.

You lived in Frederick MD, about an hour away from Dr. Lecter’s office in Baltimore. Will told you he lived in Wolf Trap, Virginia. That was about forty-five minutes away from your apartment.

You told him little snippets of your life, and he reciprocated in return. Books, his land, pretty fishing lures, boat motors...

After fifteen minutes or so of walking and easy conversation, a young girl walking a dog passed by, and Will’s demeanor changed almost imperceptibly. Of course, you noticed it though. The flash of happiness that momentarily graced his features did not go unnoticed. It was the dog that had caused this.

“What are their names?” You asked. Will stopped and laughed, knowing you were referring to his family of mutts. He liked your perceptiveness, and how you didn’t try to psychoanalyze him like some of his other acquaintances.

‘Uh, I’ve got more than five. Seven to be exact.” He admitted. One could even go as far to call him a dog _collector_. He listed their names, and the recently found Winston, the newest member. All of the dogs were strays, lost and wandering, before he had taken them in. It said quite a lot about him.

Walking back towards Dr. Lecter’s office, Will stopped at his car. You had taken the MARC train from Frederick to Baltimore that day instead of your car, just for a change. It was cheaper than gas, but it took a couple hours. You liked to see the Capital fly by, and you liked watching the people board and get off, and carry on with their lives. It was a good time to think.

“I, uh... I’m taking the MARC back to Frederick.” You said, checking your watch. If you wanted to get to the station on time, you’d have to start heading for it now.

“I don’t want to impose on your privacy, but can I drive you back to Frederick?” He asked, shifting a bit nervously. It was out of his way, but he wanted a bit more time with you. Being on the same criminal profiling team meant that it would be a good idea to know where you lived. Not to mention that it was just a considerate thing to offer, to gain your trust.

“Well, it’s pretty far... I’ve already payed for my tickets, so I’m gonna just take the train this time. Thanks for offering, though.” You said, hoping he wasn’t feeling too dejected.

“Maybe I’ll see you next week then, (name). At the Academy, Jack’s office.” Will said, saying goodbye. He had a sudden realization before speaking again. “Can I at least drive you to the station? It’s a only couple blocks from here.”

“Sure.” You said smiling, getting into his Volvo. It would make him happier than before, which was okay on your part.

* * *

The train ride was calm and not as long as it usually took.

You walked home quickly from the Frederick station, keeping your head low. The city was relatively safe, but in the the long shadows cast by the setting sun, you couldn’t help but want to get from the station to the quiet house that your apartment was in. Crime was medium-high there, but you never witnessed anything.

It was chillier than usual, and you pulled your hoodie tighter against your body. Dusk was your least favorite time of day, and you had always felt a little disoriented by the unusual light. It bothered you that it looked as though it could be either daybreak or nightfall, and you generally preferred it when it was dawn. Darkness was ominous, and you couldn’t see people properly, you couldn’t read them...

You opened the door of your apartment, locking it behind you and switching on the lights. Your apartment was sparsely furnished, but the decor you had all about was quirky and colorful. It was the perfect mix of the macabre and radiant, a bit like yourself.

You thought of Will, going home to his family of dogs in the farmhouse on the land he owned.

When you put a kettle on to make ramen noodles, your thoughts were brought to Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s pursuit of the culinary arts, cooking his own food in a beautiful kitchen in a perfectly decorated house. You looked at your package of ramen and let out a small laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a while before I update again, but thanks for reading!


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